


A Chairitable Deed

by PuppyGuppy



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Anal Fingering, BDSM, Bit of a Brat Power Bottom Sora, But only a little, Edging, Inappropriate Use of Furniture, Inappropriate Use of Literature, M/M, Mild Dream Eater!Riku, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Established Relationship, Rimming, Sentimental Sora, Service Top Riku, Set during KH3, Un-beta'd we die like men, basically everything but a blowjob, cheesy pickup lines, i really don't know how to tag this, pwp but with feeling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 23:09:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20090320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuppyGuppy/pseuds/PuppyGuppy
Summary: Sora wasn'talwayshorny. However, he had spent most of his short life unable to be horny. Between being too young, too scared, too tired, too alone, not to mentiondead asleep, his hormones had been put even further than the back burner. But now Sora was capable of getting hot and bothered, and had the free time to do so. Not only that, he also had asubjectof such desires now. All the time. And said subject was sitting just a few feet away from him. And it's like all those pent up, neglected hormones were making up for lost time, and-





	A Chairitable Deed

**Author's Note:**

> Alt. Title: _Dive Into Debauchery_
> 
> This is basically a gift to an entire discord server. They know who they are!
> 
> Also inspired by my desk chair. I will supply a link. I suggest you look at it to understand the whole setup of this fic.
> 
> This was my first time writing smut from Sora's perspective. It was a wild ride and a bit of a challenge, and it was meant to be _short_, yet here it sits at like, my longest oneshot now. Oh well, enjoy!
> 
> Chair:  
https://foter.com/photos/235/ergonomic-stools.jpg?s=pi  
Silly Doodles of Sora in Chair:  
https://twitter.com/PuppyGuppy1/status/1154914490674061312/photo/1  
https://twitter.com/PuppyGuppy1/status/1154956798387867650/photo/1

The day had started out average. Kind of like any other day at the Mysterious Tower; the place had kind of become their home away from home. Days like this were becoming a bit more common, but were still so rare that the  _ average-ness  _ of the days had yet to be taken for granted. Then again, nothing could be taken for granted in the middle of a war. Still, the almost-normalcy was more than appreciated, and as much as Sora thrived on the touch and go of constant adventure, not even he could ignore the ache in his body or the waver in his optimism, his  _ beliefs.  _

These days off, although usually scattered, were of a greater ease to both his mind and body than he expected. At least, they usually were, but _usually _he spent these days _alone. _Left to his own devices, slowly working on his strength, obtaining the ever-elusive Power of Waking, messaging his friends both far and wide. Messaging _Riku. _But today, he didn't have to message Riku. Because today he wasn't alone. Because today Riku was _here. _And it bumped his average, tolerable day up a notch to _above-_average and almost pleasantly _unbearable. _

Sora  _ always _ wanted Riku around. But, one of the many, many things he'd learned in life is that he doesn't always get what he wants. No matter how hard he tries, or whines, or pouts (which he will  _ always  _ do), some things just don't work out that way. Another thing he'd learned is that, sometimes,  _ that's okay.  _ Not even just okay, but for the best. Sora wanted to spend every waking (and, to be honest, every  _ not  _ waking) minute with Riku, but he couldn't. That was life. And so he'd learned to live with it, with these days of R&R where the only people he might actually see were Master Yen Sid, The King, Kairi or Lea. Which was great, Sora always loved catching up with them, but they were just as busy as himself, if not  _ more  _ so _ ,  _ since they were always playing catch-up. And they were no  _ Riku.  _ So, Sora eventually fell into a Riku-less, but also  _ adventure-less  _ routine during his slack days at the tower. Which involved the usual: eat, train, eat, lessons, eat, shower, and then hump into his own hand a couple,  _ several  _ times while choking on a borrowed  stolen shirt he got from Riku's bag once. Text aforementioned best friend a  _ goodnight, I miss u,  _ and then fall into a hopefully not-too-fitful sleep. Rinse and repeat if applicable, fly off to another world if not.

But today, Sora's whole routine was thrown for a loop when he woke up, late and bleary, to the sight of the almost-always-empty side of the room being filled with stuff. And not just stuff, but  _ Riku's  _ stuff. And even Riku  _ himself,  _ face-down in the pillows of his bed, shirt off but shoes still on. It looked like he'd taken just enough time to unload his belongings before crashing in exhaustion. Which seemed like a very Riku thing to do, seeing that nothing else on his side of the room was a mess apart from him; his spare clothes appeared to be nicely hung up and folded on the clothes rack, his side table now neatly stacked with notebooks and nicknacks that Sora would have to ask about later. His bag hung, now empty, across the headboard of the bed. Riku had made sure everything was in its rightful spot, probably so he wouldn't have to worry about it when he woke up. Which probably wouldn't be for a while yet, judging by the muffled snores Sora could hear coming from his pillow. Which  _ sucked,  _ because Sora wanted nothing more than to misuse his still-new link abilities in that moment, to silently and quickly be at Riku's side and kissing that gorgeous beast awake.

But he was already running behind, having stayed up _way _too late caught up in a particularly hot fantasy the night before, and Riku deserved his sleep. And Master Yen Sid would have his head for turning up tardy to a lesson, heaven forbid _skipping _it. And Sora had many, _many _things he would like to do later with his head still attached. And Riku. Not that being headless didn't open up a plethora of _other_ taboo possibilities...But, the point was made, and Sora resigned himself to hastily getting dressed. While staring at Riku as often as he could. And then groaning to himself, until he really, _really _had to go. 

But on his way out, with a soft whisper of  _ see ya later, Riku,  _ he didn't miss the basket at the foot of Riku's bed, presumably filled with all his dirty clothes from his last mission. Sora's nostrils flared. He faltered in the doorway. It took all his strength not to run over and snag a new shirt for his next round of lonely nights. Or to sniff throughout the day. It would have to wait. He just hoped Riku didn't do his laundry between now and then.

But it seemed the rest of the day was hell-bent on working against him. He'd gotten to Master Yen Sid's study just in time for his lessons, and with just enough food in him to stay awake. But staying  _ focussed  _ was a completely different story. It's not his fault Riku had suddenly shown up, and without even a warning text! He  _ missed  _ him. And couldn't help but think of all the stuff he had to tell him later, while the old wizard droned on and on about...just how many hearts Sora had inside him now. Which, he supposed he should care about. And he did! He could  _ feel them  _ after all. But he also cared about his own heart and what it was feeling. And it was feeling anxious, and excited, and absolutely sick and tired of the blank, irritated eyes Master Yen Sid kept fixing him with.

“Sora, do you or do you not want to be a Keyblade Master?” Master Yen Sid wasn't one to show much emotion, if any, but Sora could see the way his hands were fisted on the table, and how one gray eyebrow seemed to twitch. Clear indications that he was just about as tired of this as he was.

And  _ of course  _ he wanted to be a Keblade Master! It's what he was destined for! One of the... _ many  _ things he was destined for. But he had his whole life for Fate to guide him. If it was going to happen, it was going to happen. And they already had  _ one  _ amazing Keyblade Master now, so what was the hurry of assigning another one? Riku seemed to be more than enough  _ Master  _ for all of them-

Master Yen Sid cleared his throat, and Sora jumped, startled out of his thoughts. Beady eyes squinted. “Okay, Sora. Here's an  _ easier  _ question. Do you, or do you not, plan on paying any attention today?” Now he even  _ sounded  _ irritated. Sora hated it when he got all high and mighty; he always tended to point out all of his flaws, his shortcomings, his weaknesses when he got like this- like a broken record set out to crush his self-esteem. He already did a good enough job at that on his own sometimes. 

He could have lied. Shaken his head and hopefully the thoughts out of it, too. But Sora's no better at lying than he is at being a keyblade master. So, might as well confront the question with confidence. He shrugged his shoulders, leaned back in the old wooden chair a bit, and smiled.

“Nope.”

It was like watching a chord  _ snap.  _ In one fluid motion, Master Yen Sid tensed up, clenched his eyes shut, and lifted a fist as if he might bang it back on the table. Sora held his breath while he felt his eyebrows try to join with his hair. But, the fist never came back down. Instead, the Master pinched the bridge of his nose while waving his free hand dismissively. 

“Be  _ gone. _ ”

Sora didn't wait to be told twice, laughing to himself in fear and relief as he heard a hundred-year-long sigh follow him out of the stuffy study. He was so ready to sit Riku down and tell him all about the crazy things he'd done recently, and pry every minute detail out of Riku of his own adventure. Ready to have someone to gush about worlds with, and sore muscles, and  _ not  _ what Xehanort is planning, or how Sora isn't really  _ himself.  _ He was more than ready to have a real, breathing, competent partner to train with. Or against. One that wouldn't fear breaking him.  _ He was so ready. _

But when he got to their room, it was empty. Sora almost panicked. But it wasn't really  _ empty,  _ all of Riku's stuff was still there. It's just that Riku wasn't. Nor was his laundry basket. Just the upteenth thing to go wrong for him that day. Sora huffed and marched a tad too heavily over to his desk, footfalls thumping loud across the floor for anyone and everyone to hear. He didn't really care. He then sat as loudly as he could onto his desk chair, crossing his arms over his chest with another huff.

He could go  _ find  _ Riku. The missing basket was a clear clue to at least one of his best friend's possible whereabouts. But he didn't want to seem too clingy. Didn't want to  _ upset  _ Riku. And as much as he knew Riku probably wanted to see him, too, he also knew Riku enjoyed his time to properly unwind from a long trip. And who was Sora to get in the way of that? It's not like they were actually boyfriends.

They were best friends. And in love. And occassionally fucking when they had the chance. So they were  _ basically _ boyfriends. But they hadn't really gotten there yet, so Sora would let him be. He'd just keep himself busy with a new keychain he was working on upgrading. And then maybe grab some lunch.  _ Yeah _ . And so he pulled out his  _ Shooting Star  _ charm and a set of miniature tools from various drawers in his desk, and got to work. He'd like to say he got a lot of work done before getting bored and following that boredom to the kitchen, but he really didn't. He'd honestly put a lot more effort into the egg sandwich he made himself, and even  _ more _ into scarfing it down. But the food did little to sate him. He was restless and hungry for something food nor keyblades could fill. That still didn't stop him from grabbing a bag of chips to bring back to his room, though.

And promptly dropping said bag of chips onto the bedroom floor after seeing Riku upon his return. He was sitting on his bed, cross-legged, with an open book perched on one knee, and an elbow perched on the other, resting his chin against his fist. He was reading. And  _ glistening.  _ Wearing a white muscle shirt still  _ nearly _ translucent with sweat, and a pair of dark blue yoga pants- _ yoga pants!- _ with a distracting stripe of yellow going from hip to ankle. His hair was disheveled, and  _ damp,  _ and haphazardly pushed back by a dark blue headband.  _ He'd been training.  _ Training  _ without  _ Sora. That fact hurt, but Sora was always easy to forgive, especially when it came to Riku, especially when it came to Riku like  _ this.  _

But it would seem neither the commotion of his fallen snack, nor his sudden inability to breathe, was enough to grab Riku's attention.

“Riku!” 

“Hey, Sora.” Riku didn't even look up from the book. Just lifted his head up enough to give a short finger-wave with the hand that had been holding his chin. Then placed it right back. His voice still held the usual  _ affection,  _ but it lacked the undivided attention. 

Sora was offended. He'd been waiting all day to see Riku  _ awake,  _ to talk to him, here he had  _ assumed  _ Riku would want to do the same, and he was getting shrugged off for a book? He squinted. He wanted to pester. He stepped over the uninteresting chips. He bit his lip. He frowned. He thought better of it. Riku was probably still just settling back in; he'd talk to Sora when he was ready. Sora could wait. He'd just go back to upgrading his keychain, since he was actually almost done.

Which is exactly what he did, but not for longer than two minutes,  _ at most,  _ because Riku was in the room and it was  _ distracting.  _ It was like, even though he knew Riku wasn't looking at him, he could still  _ feel  _ him. And maybe it was the fact he  _ wanted  _ him to look at him. It was that  _ want _ making it hard to focus on the tiny screwdriver in hand.  _ How many screws had he taken out? 1, 2...3- _

“So, I want to go to The Realm of Darkness.” Without looking away from the various tiny pieces littering his desk, Sora made sure his voice was loud enough to travel through the room, and went for the first thing he thought might actually get Riku to look at him. If he was paying any attention at all.

There was a beat of silence, in which Sora managed to locate another screw, and then Riku's lackluster reply of, “Mmm-hmmm.” That hum shot straight through Sora's heart. It obviously proved that Riku wasn't listening. Because no way in  _ hell  _ would Riku let him just go like that. For a moment, he wondered if this is how Master Yen Sid had felt earlier. But this was  _ different.  _ Sora was Riku's best friend, and he should  _ want  _ to listen to him. He should be excited to see him! Because he was  _ fun.  _ And lessons, and  _ books,  _ were not.

Sora's hand slipped, causing the little red screwdriver to fall onto the desk and roll off to the floor. He cursed, something short and to himself, before scooting his chair far enough backwards that he had room to reach under and look for the tool. Which was a fool's errand from the start; tiny charms required tiny tools and the floor was just so  _ big.  _ He'd only looked for a few seconds before he deemed the thing lost to this realm, signalling the end of his failed attempt with a heavy sigh. There he stayed, pretty much upside-down, with his head on the footrest of his chair and ass in the air. He could feel his fingers start to tingle, the blood rushing to the digits that brushed the carpet. He sighed again, and swiveled his head round to give his friend an upside down pout.

“ _ Rikuuuu.”  _ He whined, but this time, got even less of a response than before. This time, he got  _ no  _ response. Riku just flipped to the next page of his book, teal eyes sharp and digesting.

And Sora decided that just wouldn't do. Not when Riku was just sitting there, looking like a post-workout _god _(and Sora had _met _gods, so he could make a fair comparison)_, _and he had himself bent over, waiting and willing, wearing easy-access sweatpants. And trying not to grind his already aroused dick into the seat of his desk chair. He hadn't seen Riku in weeks! And a good fuck would do them _both _loads of good. Or, at least, that's what he convinced himself of with a barely concealed giggle.

Sora wasn't  _ always _ horny. However, he had spent most of his short life unable to  _ be _ horny. Between being too young, too scared, too tired, too alone, not to mention  _ dead asleep _ , his hormones had been put even further than the back burner. But now Sora was capable of getting hot and bothered, and had the free time to do so. Not only that, he also had a  _ subject _ of such desires now. All the time. And said subject was sitting just a few feet away from him. And it's like all those pent up, neglected hormones were making up for lost time, and-

and making him scoot his desk chair just a bit closer to Riku's bed. It was a bit awkward, since he was staring at his target upside-down and scooting backwards all at once, but he managed. And the friction the movement caused against his squished abdomen was _nice. _But that, too, made things just a bit more complicated, 'cause now he was trying to roll closer to Riku _and _not rut into the seat of the chair. But, he still managed, and in a few more uncoordinated minutes, he was about half as close to Riku as he previously had been, and out of breath. If anything, he hoped _that _would have gotten Riku's attention, if even just to see what he was doing. But a moment's rest and a quick glance had those hopes dashed.

From his new spot, Sora could see just how  _ tightly  _ those pants hugged every dip and curve of Riku's legs. He licked his lips. He could trace that bright yellow line with his eyes, from taught hip to solid thigh, to where it disappeared from view, tucked under his other leg. But he could picture it following down the path of a bulging calf. He could also picture the  _ rest  _ of his pants he couldn't see, and he wasn't quite sure which view would be better. It's one of the many reasons Riku could have him any way he wanted. Because Sora wanted  _ him  _ in any and every way, too.

But no one was having anyone in any which way if Riku wouldn't stop  _ reading. _

Sora took a few seconds to gain some composure, or at the very least stop  _ panting,  _ before trying to gain Riku's attention in a different way.

“Hey, Riku? You're what I call  _ fine  _ print.” The line was atrocious, and he  _ knew  _ that. But so was this situation. So he figured he might as well give it his all or nothing, and seeing that Riku seemed to be more into  _ literature  _ these days, he really couldn't help himself. And he's glad he didn't; if his eyes hadn't played tricks on him, he's pretty sure he saw  _ something,  _ just a flicker, cross Riku's face, as if his eyes had to read the same sentence twice.

Sora smirked.

“Hey, Riku?” He followed up the question with another good scoot across the floor, which was both a blessing and a curse; he could no longer see most of his best friend due to the change in position, just more of the bed frame and mattress, but it meant he was  _ closer.  _ “Guess you could call these pants  _ The Jungle Book,' _ cause of the beast their hiding.” He couldn't see Riku's reaction, but he  _ heard  _ it, a small shift on the bed that caused the springs to pop.

Spurred on, Sora dug his feet into the carpet and gave one final, good push, closing the rest of the distance between his chair and the bed with a  _ clack.  _ The wheels of the chair were flush against the bed, and so were Sora's thighs. The whiplash from reaching his target sent him humping against the seat for a minute, breath hitching on his next words.

“H- _ Hey,  _ Riku? Do you like it  _ dog-eared  _ style?” Sora had to bite his lip for a multitude of reasons. For one, he was trying not to laugh at the disgrace of his own shitty pickup lines. For another, he couldn't see Riku at all now, and had no way to judge if he'd actually gone too far and pissed him off this time. And for  _ another,  _ he'd pinned his own thighs against the mattress and his own erection to the plush seat of his chair. His heart hammered in his throat while he petted the carpet nervously. But there came no reply; not seen or heard or felt. His fingers dug into the floor.

Sora  _ hated _ that book. Hated the stupid author of that stupid book more than any senile, world-dominating old man he was apparently fated to fight. And  _ supposed _ to hate. To be fair, though, the author was probably very smart. They had to be, since they managed to write about something that captured Riku's wholehearted attention. But, he  _ still _ hated them, regardless. Because  _ Sora _ wanted to capture Riku's attention, wanted Riku engrossed in  _ him _ . Wanted Riku. In him.  _ Just wanted Riku in him. _

_ “Hey, Riku?  _ If you stroke  _ my  _ spine, I might  _ open up  _ for you _ ,  _ too.” That was it. The gold ticket. Sora had saved his best for last, and now all his cards were on the table. He was literally face-down, ass-up for Riku, and if that didn't work, Sora would just have to sulk away and succumb to some very loud, very  _ indulgent _ , very  _ guilt-trippy _ masturbation on his own bed. Which wouldn't be too bad, since he knew how to have a good time on his own-

The sound of a book snapping shut cut clean through Sora's thoughts of jacking off. With the sound came a sudden electricity in the air, and though Sora didn't dare make a sound, his fingers twitched against the floor in excitement. For a moment, nothing happened. The room was completely silent. The hairs on the back of his neck, all the way down to his legs, prickled. This time, he  _ could  _ feel eyes on him. It was almost too much for him, and Sora had to breathe deeply to keep himself from cumming on the spot from just the tension  _ alone.  _ It's a good thing he had like,  _ no  _ refractory period.

“Sora.”

Sora grinned against the footrest. Riku  _ sounded  _ flat, and just a tiny bit exasperated. Sora knew he was trying to sound as disinterested as possible. But they both knew that wasn't the case; Sora could feel the underlying insinuations through the link, if he focused hard enough. The link was an interesting side effect of their newest kind of relationship, with Riku being his Dream Eater and all. Usually they could forget it was even there, even though it always was. But sometimes Sora could  _ feel  _ it. Like a thought he was struggling not to lose. Almost physical, but mostly mental. When he strained on that link now, he got  _ intense heat.  _ It caused him to shiver, because now it was a  _ game.  _ And he had Riku's full attention, finally.

Riku had to learn not to  _ hate  _ that link after their Mark of Mastery exam. Riku had to learn a lot of things. But, like the Master he'd been dubbed, he'd taken everything in stride, and for the first time in his life, met his own darkness head-on and conquered it. And not only for Sora this time, but for himself, too. And Sora had watched from the sidelines, but also from his own front-row seat, as Riku fought tooth and nail to become the man he was today. The man that could bend Sora to his every whim, but only because Sora  _ trusted  _ him. Trusted him not to take any harmful advantage of that. And Sora did trust him, even more than he trusted himself these days. Sometimes, Sora didn't even know who he was anymore, just what everyone else  _ wanted  _ him to be. But Riku knew him, and was always there to remind him of who he was, and that it was  _ okay  _ to be who he was. Just like Sora had been trying to convince Riku to believe for  _ years.  _ It was as if, somewhere along the lines, their roles had been reversed; Sora now left behind, starry-eyed and out of breath in the sheer wake of  _ Riku.  _ Strong, steadfast, surefire Riku.

_ Drop-dead gorgeous Riku. _

There was a shift, the sound of more popping bedsprings, and Sora lifted his head up to try and see what was happening, using his hands on the floor as leverage. He didn't have to move too much, because Riku had gotten off the bed all together, and was now standing beside Sora, a mere  _ foot  _ away from him. Which meant Sora first got an eyeful of pale, pretty feet. Riku had always been adamant about taking care of his feet, no matter where he was or what condition the rest of his body was in. You could always tell Riku's state of mind by how his feet looked. That is, if there was no other way to tell. And Sora knew just by looking at them that right now, they'd be  _ soft.  _ When he lifted his eyes though, inch by every spandex covered inch, Sora was  _ blessed  _ with the part of Riku's pants he could only imagine earlier.

He felt his dick  _ jump, _ and bit back a whimper. Those pants hid absolutely  _ nothing,  _ and Sora had half a mind to wonder if Riku was wearing any underwear. Probably not, what with the way his cock was pressed between the fabric and his hip, heart-stoppingly hard, and if Sora squinted, he could  _ just _ make out the trails of full veins. He felt parched by the time he moved his gaze further up, taking in the way Riku's shirt creased over the hard muscles of his stomach, the silhouette of his naval, but here he actually had to push himself up on his hands a bit to look any higher. When he did, he took notice of crossed arms, and the offending book still clasped in a strong hand. He  _ tskd  _ before thinking, then snapped his eyes up to Riku's face. 

Riku had one silver brow cocked, and the opposite corner of his mouth curled up, and he'd tilted his head in a way that made him have to look down at Sora even more than he already naturally had to. Teal eyes practically  _ slits.  _ It was one of the haughtiest and  _ hottest  _ looks Sora had ever seen. He gulped.

“Hi, Riku.” Sora grinned, all teeth and cheek, and though he tried for impish, he kind of just sounded  _ thirsty. _

Riku huffed, really just a loud exhale, while rolling those piercing eyes upwards. “If you couldn't tell, Sora, I was  _ trying  _ to read.” There it was again, that mock arrogance and annoyance. At least the  _ annoyance  _ was fake, anyway. But there was a distant, fleeting thought of  _ hunger,  _ both his and not, so Sora didn't even flinch at the words.

“Oh? Alright then,  _ Riku.  _ What's the book about?” Sora propped his elbows on the footrest so he could rest his chin in his hands, eyebrows high and expectant. He watched in growing amusement as Riku's own eyebrows knitted together, his smirk faltering. He watched,  _ smugly _ , as teal eyes glanced down at the book in his arms, as if seeking the answer there, and coughing when he received none. But before Sora could relish in his victory, Riku recovered; he watched in confusion as he placed one pale foot on the chair's wheel caster, then had the splittest of seconds to grip the chair for  _ dear life  _ as he was sent whooshing sideways and back across the room a bit. 

By the time Sora slammed his feet down as makeshift brakes, he was already experiencing vertigo, the room spinning in his head but also around him due to the force of the shove causing the chair to swivel. He couldn't help but laugh, dizzy and turned-on, until his vision stabilized again, and he could clearly see that he was now facing his desk again. He thought he might have to fix that, and scoot his way back to Riku, but a warm presence behind him,  _ over him,  _ made him realize he didn't have to fix a single damn thing.

“I'd know what the book was about if you hadn't  _ distracted  _ me.” There were lips at his ear, hot and wet and  _ growling,  _ and fingers digging into his hips, blunt but  _ hard,  _ and so much warmth and weight pressed against his back. Riku was tall enough to completely cover him and  _ still  _ remain standing. Sora couldn't have held back his moan even if he'd tried. Riku was pressing onto him, and their combined weight meant his dick was absolutely, gloriously  _ crushed  _ into the seat of the chair. He rolled his hips once, experimentally, testing the amount of room he had to move, which was  _ none,  _ but he didn't miss the way a low breath hitched behind his ear. So far this was better than he could have ever imagined, and Sora almost  _ sobbed.  _

Sora had been distracted by Riku since this morning. Turnabout is fair play.

“You're so  _ impatient. _ ” Riku tutted in Sora's ear, shifted, and  _ oh yes,  _ Sora could feel his dick pressed teasingly against his thigh through two pairs of pants. Though Riku's  _ hardly  _ counted as pants. “ _ Yes.”  _ Sora's voice shook around a needy gasp, and what he wouldn't give to watch him train in those. He felt an answering hum vibrate against his throat, slow and sultry, Riku's lips now against his neck, and he shook. _ “I missed you.”  _ the words formed a kiss against his palpitating pulse, punctuated by the barest drags of teeth, and Sora rolled both his eyes and his hips back again, unable to contain himself at the emotional admittance. Riku was finally looking at him, talking to him,  _ potentially  _ fucking him, and it was almost too much at once after having gone so long without.

He wanted to respond, cry out how much he'd missed Riku, too, but he didn't trust his own voice, and he was beaten to the punch. “I missed you so much, Sora. But-” the voice, the lips, the weight, the  _ heat,  _ all of it was suddenly gone, save for the two hands still on his hips. Sora  _ whined.  _ “I heard you got sent out of your lessons today. Because you couldn't wait for me.” The hands on his hips clenched once, before releasing to rub soothing circles over the waistband of his pants. It was  _ maddening.  _

It was half the reason it took Sora so long to push himself up again, hands supporting most of his weight on the footrest now. He wanted to explain himself,  _ defend  _ himself, because he felt like Riku returning was a good enough excuse to give both lessons and Master Yen Sid a huge middle finger. But one of the hands holding his hips moved up his back in a tantalizing, pressurized glide, and  _ held him there.  _ Sora stilled, eyes wide and fixed on the floor. Riku wasn't letting him move. Were he a different person, it might have raised a red flag. But he wasn't a different person, he was  _ Sora.  _ And Sora found it incredibly hot.

“Well,  _ Sora.  _ I'm going to make you wait for me now.” Riku was using the same tone he used when confronting an enemy. It was the same voice he used when conversing with the  _ other  _ Masters. It  _ was  _ the voice of a Master. He'd been worried about cumming earlier, but that was  _ nothing  _ compared to this; the way Riku's command shot straight to his gut and ignited fireworks there, a countdown back from five to blastoff. As if Riku knew this, the weight was back on top of Sora, effectively preventing the impending orgasm from reaching his pinned dick.

This time Sora  _ did  _ sob. A dry, choked mewl of Riku's name. He had fallen forwards again, face smushed against the fabric of the footrest and nestled between his arms. Riku's weight stayed there until he stopped shaking, but his eyes remained closed as he panted into the crook of one of his elbows. The decrease in pressure teetered on the edge between relieving and stressing, but he was gently nudged over into the warm pool of  _ just  _ relief by deft hands pushing up his tank top, and open-mouthed kisses replacing the fabric on his back. Each kiss was a slow, steady press of warm moisture, every other one mixed with a short slide of tongue or scrape of teeth; starting from his hips and scattered all the way up to his shoulders, where his shirt had been bunched up, then back down again. Though Sora had stopped shaking only moments ago, he was back at it  _ again  _ now _ ,  _ tenfold this time. He felt sweet words mouthed into his skin. He was breathing in a higher octave, half-formed words of his own falling from every gasp and into the cushion beneath him. Everything had gone from  _ fucking desperate  _ to  _ heavy loving  _ so fast that Sora's head and heart were swimming. Riku had a way of doing that to him; slowing his feelings and his thoughts until they hung, suspended,  _ in the moment _ , while he sent his body to another dimension where it could solely fixate on  _ existing. _

Somewhere his body was good enough.

Subconsciously, Sora wriggled one of his hands beneath himself to grasp at the crown pendant around his neck, grounding himself, at the same time Riku's hands travelled back down his sides,  _ almost  _ tickling, until they gripped the waistband of his sweats and pushed  _ down.  _ They could only go so far down though, before getting stuck in the same place his dick was. Sora shivered at the cool air hitting his cheeks, then moaned low and broken as hot, calloused hands palmed at the sensitive flesh. There they stayed, and  _ kneaded,  _ until Sora could only hum and rub his face into the footrest, eyes open but dazedly staring at the blue carpet while his fingers gripped the edge of the cushion. 

There was a soft, barely-there press to his rim, and instead of fuzzy navy, his vision filled with stars. He rocked forward, then rocked back, back against Riku's thumb, and  _ keened.  _ He'd already been leaking a steady dribble of pre-come, but felt a particularly thick and warm wet patch form in the front of his pants, sticking against his stomach and the seat of the chair. He white-knuckled the edge of the footrest.

“Sora?” Riku's breath ghosted along Sora's flank, the name soft with affection and apprehension. As if he'd done something wrong. As if he  _ could  _ do something wrong. And there was a thought there, but then it was gone, and in Sora's puddling mind he couldn't really stick a name to it, but it was something like  _ greed, take, mine,  _ and he was confused, because he  _ was  _ Riku's. Riku's for the taking. Riku could have all of him, every last piece of him,  _ Riku deserved everything,  _ didn't even have to ask, yet here he was,  _ asking.  _ He was going against everything in him, the Darkness, the Dream Eater, the  _ desire,  _ just to make sure Sora was right there with him, the last checkpoint before the dive into debauchery. 

Sora was still learning how to control the link, especially in such a state that he was, but he did his best to send back his consent in the form of a silent  _ I love you.  _ Physically, he nodded vigorously against the chair, and verbally, he responded with Riku's name in kind, breathless and burning.

“Riku,  _ yes.” _

There was warmth, soft pressure,  _ a kiss,  _ then moisture and pain, quick and hot, a  _ bite,  _ Sora gasped, startled at first, but the sound simmered into a hum; he knew that would leave a tender bruise on his bum. Something he could prod on his nights alone, a delicious and dull ache to remind him of this exact moment. Riku was always taking care of him like that, without even knowing. Giving him little pieces of himself to ease the ache of traversing the universe usually alone. Sora had little time to get any more sentimental- the hands on either side of his ass clenched and pulled, spreading him open, and though he felt  _ many explicit things  _ about the tongue gliding over his hole, he suddenly lacked the coherency to put words to them. 

"Ri- _ Ri _ …" He couldn't even form the two easy syllables of the man now sending him to the astrals with his mouth. 

Everything was a gentle, languid, heated rhythm. Sora couldn't cum from this, as amazing as it was,  _ and Riku knew that.  _ No matter how hot and easy Sora tended to be for him these days, he couldn't get off on rimming alone. Though each wet roll and slow flick of that tongue had him pushed what seemed impossibly closer to a never-ending ledge of lust. He wanted more,  _ needed  _ more, and that, too, Riku knew. He could tell in the way Riku steadily but lazily licked him open; Sora wasn't going to get off anytime soon. This wasn't for him anymore. This was all for Riku. 

Maybe it had been from the very start. 

After what could have been an eternity for all Sora could tell, and after every bone in his body had turned to jelly, mind and asshole properly  _ lavished,  _ he felt a trail of chaste kisses dotted up his spine, leaving cold, sensitive gooseflesh behind. He blinked, dazedly, trying to regain enough clarity to follow that line, but his focus was abruptly halted and diverted  _ elsewhere  _ when a gentle but strong hand threaded its way into his hair, fondly petted there, and then  _ pulled.  _ Sora’s body didn’t have time to finish one reaction before melting into another, shudder turning into a hum that turned into a gasp and then a moan, the sound elevating in pitch with every inch that hand also elevated his head. Up, and up, and  _ up,  _ until Sora was almost standing, hands weekly gripping the seat of the chair, hardly for support though as Riku held him up easily by his hair; his arms shook, and his eyes rolled heavenward, dick throbbing from the sudden freedom of pressure.

Lips were back in his ear, gliding along the shell of it, filling it with an exhale more sound than air, then words, “Wait here.”

Without warning, Sora flopped back down onto the chair, wind nearly knocked out of him upon impact-  _ Riku had dropped him.  _ Not forcefully, but his trembling limbs hadn’t been ready for the sudden need to catch himself.

“Oof,  _ Riku. _ ” Sora whined, but the sound didn’t travel much further than where his face was squished back into the foot rest.

“ _ Hush.  _ I will be back in a minute.” Apparently Riku had still heard it. His response was chastising, but affectionate, and it quelled the silly worry that had crept its way into Sora’s heart, that Riku was done with him. It wouldn’t have been the  _ first  _ time he’d gotten him wet and open and gagging for it, only to then leave. But those times were usually full of challenges and promises or spontaneous, interrupting missions. Had Sora had the strength to lift his head, he would have seen that  _ this  _ time, he was only left hanging long enough for Riku to grab some lube from underneath his pillow, and the previously forgotten book.

However, Sora had decided he was quite comfortable where he’d landed, so was startled a bit when something cool and hard was placed on the searing skin of his lower back.

“Uh, Riku?” He lifted his head this time, enough for his question to be heard, and enough to try and throw a concerned look over his shoulder with one curious eyebrow. 

What he managed to see behind him was Riku,  _ smirking,  _ a clear bottle in one hand, while his other hand held the offending novel from earlier against his back. Sora couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer audacity of it all.  _ Why was the book back? What the ever-loving fuck was he gonna do with that?  _ Sora narrowed his eyes and craned his neck around as much as physically possible. The strain was worth the pout he was going for.

“Riku. What. What are you doing?” He sounded about as flat as he felt his softening dick was getting. Which was saying something, because it always seemed to be a struggle to turn himself  _ off.  _ Yet Riku was damn near managing it, with his damn book and widening smirk and squinting,  _ glinting  _ eyes- okay, so, maybe the object’s appearance wasn’t as much of a turn off as he wanted it to be. But still.

“I’m going to finish what I started. And I’m going to finish what  _ you  _ started.” Riku’s words were emphasized by the sound of a clicking cap, and Sora bit his lip on a gasp. It’s like that sharp, short sound was the end of some unspoken, unstarted argument, more so than Riku’s own words. He’d always been better at multitasking,  _ Master and all,  _ so there was little surprise he assumed he’d be able to read and fuck at the same time. Sora knew he probably, most likely  _ could.  _ But not if he had anything to do with it, and seeing as  _ he  _ was the one with his ass out, he had quite a lot to do with it.

Sora just had to be better than the book.

Having decided then and there that Riku had not won, Sora readjusted himself to get comfortable for what was to come. Not that he wasn’t going to absolutely love every second of it, but he now had a game to win. He couldn’t let himself get  _ too  _ lost in Riku. He crossed his arms on the foot rest and held himself up just a bit, enough so he could still move his head around if need be- then shifted, and swallowed down the moan that threatened to slip out of him; he was just as hard as before the odd interruption, if not  _ more _ . Gods, he loved a good challenge _ . _

The slick, lukewarm press of a finger at his entrance still came as a bit of a surprise, even though he knew it had been coming. Knew what _else _was coming. Hopefully him, soon. But Riku, first. And for all the cockiness and power Riku liked to boast about having, there was still that _hesitation _tickling the back of his skull; another mental question mark through the link. _Are you ready? _Sora thought it was the dumbest question ever. Of course he was ready. And instead of answering his best friend, Sora decided to _show _him, by thrusting back as far as he could onto that prepped digit.

He might have been a  _ tad  _ overzealous, since they hadn’t done this in a while, and just the one finger alone burned more than anything else, but Riku had gasped, caught off guard, so Sora tucked that under one of the many small things that were  _ worth it.  _ The pain would fade soon, anyways. It always did. Riku made sure of that. And true to the fact (and ignoring Sora’s hubris), Riku began to finger him just about as gently and surely as he had their first time. Even though Sora sometimes found it unnecessary and  _ time consuming _ , he also couldn’t deny just how  _ nice,  _ and almost reassuring, the seemingly simple gesture was. It had an odd way of making him feel valuable,  _ cherished,  _ fragile in the best kind of way. Not in the way everyone else made him feel, like he just might  _ break,  _ like he was  _ already  _ broken. No, Riku knew he wouldn’t break, and  _ still  _ took the extra precaution. Riku had the key to Sora’s most valuable possession, and Sora  _ knew  _ it was valuable, even solely based on Riku’s fingers alone; Riku always handled him like he was a treasure. 

And  _ that,  _ among other things, was one of the most addicting things about being loved by Riku. Even when he felt like tarnished bronze, Riku made him feel like polished gold. Just with a  _ single finger. _

Which became  _ two  _ after Riku had taken Sora’s gentle rocking as a sign of readiness.

“ _ Hn... _ ” Sora gnawed at his bottom lip and groaned, muscles in his arms flexing at the intrusion. He struggled to keep his eyes open against the slow burn, even though all he was looking at was the carpet floor. It still felt like a point in Riku’s favor if he closed them, and  _ oh, that’s right- _

“H-hey, Riku? Figure out...what the book’s ab-about, yet?” Keeping his eyes open was hard enough once those fingers started  _ moving  _ again, and he almost had to give up upon trying to throw  _ talking  _ into the mix. But he succeeded.  _ Just.  _ Though his eyelids did flutter, and the words were barely more than a slightly-distinguishable hum, after a rather  _ glorious, deep  _ slide of those fingers. But then those fingers jerked, and halted, and all Sora could do was gasp as what he said must have finally reached Riku’s ears.

There was a beat where nothing happened, but then Sora felt the book on his back move, take up more space, and he figured Riku must have finally opened the damn thing.  _ Good.  _ So far, Sora felt like he was in the lead, and he hadn’t even gotten  _ started _ , yet. Guess he just had that effect on him. The triumph didn’t last long. He heard Riku cough, then those fingers  _ stretched,  _ and he had to bow out a little bit; eyes sliding shut with a loud exhale. Then Riku spoke.

“It’s about pirates.”

Sora’s eyes snapped open.

“Pi-pirates?”

“Yes, Sora,” Riku pressed, slow, to the last knuckle, wriggled,  _ oh so close  _ to where Sora wanted them, “ _ pirates.” _

Sora squirmed and panted, dug his fingers into his own forearms,  _ tried not to whine.  _ Tried to focus on that book, too, for once. Tried not to lose, not yet. But it was so  _ hard.  _ Nearly impossible with those fingers now  _ not-quite _ ,  _ almost  _ brushing his prostate in an infuriating pattern, and thoughts of Riku  _ and  _ pirates swirling around simultaneously in his head. Sora knew real pirates. Sora had  _ been  _ a real pirate. Riku would make a-

“ _ goodpirate,”  _ Sora moaned. He’d shifted his hips the minuscule amount that he could, which caused those fingers to  _ finally  _ reach what should have been their destination all along. White flashed behind his eyes, and he was sure it was the same color that pooled beneath his gut.

“Excuse me?” Riku didn’t sound confused. He sounded  _ shy.  _ And oh,  _ oh. _

Sora hadn’t meant it like  _ that,  _ but he’d definitely file that away for  _ later. _

“You’d make a  _ good  _ pirate.” Miraculously, Sora managed to get the whole sentence out, but only because he painstakingly stilled his hips, momentarily denying himself what he so desperately wanted. His p-spot and his brain did not work well together.

As if Riku had noticed Sora’s display of self-control, he was rewarded with a good, solid slide along that sweet spot, and the room went cross-eyed.

“Stop  _ distracting  _ me.” There it was again, that faux-anger, easily seen right through with how Riku’s voice wavered, almost breathless.

It was too perfect. Sora smirked, more so for himself than Riku, since Riku couldn’t even see it, and licked his drying lips. 

“Why don’t you  _ make me,  _ Master Riku?” 

Sora felt Riku's resolve shatter, like crumbling porcelain all the way down to the tips of the fingers buried inside him. Gone was the tender, questioning link between them, replaced with a sudden, flaring,  _ lusty possessiveness.  _ And then gone were the fingers, warm and filling, replaced with a cool and gaping  _ need _ . Yes,  _ yes,  _ Riku needed to do way less thinking and way more just  _ feeling.  _ There was a sound behind him, then the familiar click of a cap, and he gripped his arms, eager and  _ oh _ so ready. 

The anticipation lasted not one, not two, but  _ three _ whole beats, until Sora felt soft, wet,  _ hard  _ heat press teasingly to his hole. He heard Riku hum behind him. 

"I would not have shown myself for all the world," two hands gripped his hips, one still wet from fingering him open. "But lay there,  _ trembling _ and  _ listening _ , in the extreme of fear and curiosity." Sora scrunched up his face, hearing Riku's words but not  _ understanding  _ them-

"In I got," Sora stopped breathing, but so did Riku by the sound of it, because there he shut up, both too caught up in the slow, steady  _ push  _ of the one inside the other. " _ Bodily, _ into-into the apple barrel."

_ Oh.  _

It took a few measured, marvelous seconds for Sora to realise what was happening, as if every tangible thought was being pushed out of his brain the more that he felt Riku push  _ in.  _ In and in and  _ in,  _ until it didn't even matter that he knew what was happening, because there was no way he could  _ articulate  _ it. Riku was reading.  _ Out loud.  _ While stopping only once his dick was so far seated inside Sora it felt like he could taste it. But that could also just be Sora's memory adding kindling to the fire. 

All he wanted was for Riku to  _ move.  _ And he did, but not in the way Sora was expecting. Gradually, Sora felt the familiar weight from earlier return to his frame, gently but persistently pressing him down against the chair, until Riku was fully covering him again. It left the book properly sandwiched between them, and Riku's face just visible out the corner of his eye. Though difficult from the angle and the fog fucked into his head, Sora could still make out half-lidded rings of teal, nearly invisible against the blown out black holes of Riku's pupils, and the barely there blush on high, pale cheekbones, almost looking like a pink dust of glitter due to the slight sheen of sweat. Pink looked  _ amazing  _ on Riku. And Sora knew he was the only one to ever really see the two things together: Riku and pink. Riku only ever got pink for  _ him.  _ Or  _ because  _ of him. And that was another thing addictive about being loved by Riku- Riku always looked handsome, sure, but he let Sora make him look  _ pretty.  _

Sora had to close his eyes though, and catalog that beautiful image away in his heart, when Riku nuzzled his cheek in the crook behind his ear. The gesture was made slippery and ticklish due to sweat and hair, but he crooned right through it and gave an instinctual rub back. He both heard and felt Riku lick his lips, his breath quiver, before murmuring a warm stream of words. "I lay down,  _ flat, _ in the bottom of that wretched skiff and devoutly recommended my spirit to its Maker." 

All Sora wanted was for Riku to fucking  _ move.  _ And keep talking to him. Keep talking to him with words that sounded less and less like pirates and more and more like  _ sex.  _ He couldn't help it, but he also didn't want to, so he clenched around Riku, hard and fluttery, whining into the warm, damp skin of his arms. 

The fingers on his hips curled, squeezed tightly around the soft flesh there, until they dug against bone, and he moaned, low and meek, head lulling into the comfortable crevices of his elbows. Every part of him just fit so  _ well  _ in those hands. Sora had wanted to be taller than Riku as a kid, at least just as big, but Riku had found a way to show him just how perfect his body already was. Sora wasn't sure how dirty Destiny could be, but sometimes he felt  _ made  _ for this. 

"I was just thinking," Riku sounded breathless, and Sora wasn't sure if he was speaking from the heart or the book anymore, but it didn't really matter. The weight on his back retreated, a slow peel away of sweat-sticky skin, "how busy drink and the devil were at that very moment," Riku was standing again, and Sora had a distant concern of the state of the book he wasn't really hating anymore, "when I was surprised by a sudden,  _ lurch-"  _

Sora  _ keened.  _ In one, swift flow Riku had pulled almost all the way out, only to slam right back in,  _ right where he wanted him,  _ and it was a trick  _ and _ a treat that he didn't instantaneously orgasm, because he felt like he could, but with his dick where it was at, he probably physically actually  _ couldn't.  _ All he could do was weakly rock his hips into the seat of the chair and try not to beg for the release he'd been wanting  _ all day.  _

That's when the rhythm picked up, and Riku seemed to finally forget about that blasted book again, attention honed in on making sure he hit Sora's prostate with every thrust. It wasn't fast, but it also wasn't  _ gentle.  _ Slow, sharp, hard, calculated,  _ mastered,  _ everything Sora needed him to be, everything Sora  _ wasn't.  _ But right now, what Sora wanted outweighed what he needed, and what he wanted was for Riku to  _ lose _ . Lose the game, lose to him, lose  _ inside him _ . Riku had made him wait long enough.

With trembling strength, Sora shifted his weight to one side, freeing up one of his arms to quickly reach behind him and grab the book still resting on the curve of his ass. However, a particularly good thrust had him clumsily drop it to the floor in favor of yelping Riku's name, having to grip the chair as to make sure he didn't fall off sideways. Riku quickly adjusted, stabilized, and  _ continued,  _ while Sora tried to remember how to breathe. And what he was doing. 

Oh. Right.  _ The book.  _

Conveniently, when Sora found himself again, the book was laying open just close enough he could make out the words bouncing across the pages. Or, well,  _ he _ was the one bouncing, and some of the pages were now wrinkled and bent, so it took multiple cloudy blinks and rereads to properly process what was written. But once understood, Sora decided Destiny was  _ definitely  _ a dirty dog. 

He swallowed uselessly, as if that would cool the desert in his throat or ease the cracking of his voice. And then he shifted again, freed up the same hand, and slid his palm along his own slick, heated side until he found one of Riku's hands and gripped the wrist. 

" _ R-Riku, _ " He tugged on the wrist, gently but insistently, until he felt it give and follow. 

Sora dragged that hand, slow and purposeful, up and up and  _ up,  _ and as he did so he shivered, panted, took notice of how Riku's hips stuttered, how his cock  _ throbbed  _ against his walls, and then he spoke, rough and breathy. 

"It showed me Hands and his companion locked together in a  _ passionate _ wrestle, each with a hand upon the other's throat." Sora guided Riku's hand up his shoulder blade, around his chest, and right to his neck, where he gave both the hand and his own windpipe a firm squeeze. 

Riku gasped, convulsed, and that was it, he was cumming, but not without fucking Sora right on through it. All Sora could do was whimper, broken and wrecked, as the hand around his throat clenched, unprompted, sudden lack of oxygen and erratic thrusts filling the room with stars. Absently, he felt the chain around his neck thumping against his chest just as hard as his heart was. Saliva pooled on his tongue, thick and bubbly, but he had no mind to care as it trickled passed the corner of his lips and onto the footrest. All he cared about was the liquid fire filling him up passed the rim, spilling a simmering trail down the back of his thighs and onto his sweatpants.

There were two hands on his hips again, gripping and lifting, then just one hand, and then-

Forget stars, Sora swore he was shoved right into the blast of a gummiship engine. 

He wasn't sure when he started living again. But he was breathing, ragged and shallow. And he registered something touching him, gentle and repetitive, but it kind of tickled so he squirmed,  _ groaned,  _ then-

"Sora?"

Sora opened his eyes and was met with the sight of the floor. He blinked, slowly, because everything was wonderful and warm and right, but Riku sounded  _ concerned?  _

"Hm. I guess you could consider your booty properly plundered, aye?" 

Sora squinted. Then choked on a laugh, which dissolved into an onslaught of giggles, because it all came rushing back to him and Riku had cracked a joke. Not just a joke, but a really,  _ truly _ terrible pun, in the most offensive, inaccurate pirate voice Sora had ever heard. 

The touches had been Riku's hands rubbing mindless shapes into his back, but they stilled when Riku started snickering, too. They stayed like that, Riku with his hands on his lower back, and Sora still pretzeled into the chair, laughing at their new inside joke. But eventually, Sora moved and his muscles complained, so Riku helped ease him out of the chair and carry him over to his bed. 

"Seriously, though. You okay?" Riku crawled onto the bed beside him, and it was only then Sora realized the state they were in. While he had apparently been redressed during his sex-induced coma, pants now dark and soaked and soon to be crusty, tank top rumpled but pulled back down, Riku was still only  _ mostly _ dressed. His yoga pants were still rolled down tightly around his thighs, dick now soft and just. Hanging out.

Sora had to bite his lip to keep from laughing again as he nodded. But Riku noticed, just like he always did, and sighed in exasperation and amusement up at the ceiling. 

"What am I going to do with you,  _ Chosen One?"  _ Sora wanted to make a cheeky comment about  _ round two,  _ but a hand ruffling around in his hair had him indignantly squawking instead.

"Uhg, _ Riku! _ " He flinched, and then flinched again, when he realized just how pleasantly achy his whole body was. There was definitely a bruise on his ass, if not his hips and his neck, too. He should probably Cure himself if he didn't want to make a scene, but then again, he kind of  _ did  _ want to make a scene. The worst part was how tingly his arms felt from being locked beneath him for so long. 

"Rub my arms?" Sora stretched the arms in question across Riku's lap, mindful of his dick, and punctuated the query by wiggling his fingers. 

Riku looked down at his lap and blushed, seeming to just now realise he'd never pulled his pants back up. But he quickly recovered with a hum and a fond smirk.

"Sure, but only if you let me continue to read."

Sora's own smile turned just as lopsided, and he felt just as fond in his reply. 

"Okay, but only if you continue to read it  _ out loud _ . "

Sora watched, heart skipping, as Riku's face seemed to melt and glow right before his eyes, into the same private look he'd been giving him since they were kids. He reached up, removed the sweatband from his hair, then used his fingers as a sling-shot to aim it at Sora.

" _ Deal _ ." 

The article smacked Sora right in the face, and he spluttered, scrunched up his nose in disgust, but they  _ both  _ knew it was only going to end up underneath Sora’s pillow that night.

They had a mess to clean up. Laundry to do, showers to take. Sora still had a screw to find. And a shirt to steal. Riku probably had a meeting with the King. There were lessons to learn and missions to accomplish and a war to fight. But they also had each other right now, which was  _ rare _ these days. Had been for a very long time. They had each other, their synced hearts, and their incorrigible shared passion of pirates. Sora had his best friend back, and hopefully some good dreams again. 

And possibly enough time for that  _ round two.  _

For now, Sora scooted so that Riku could stand up, tuck himself back into his pants, and retrieve the book. When Riku returned, he sat on the bed with his back against the wall, and Sora wasted no time in laying down and filling his lap with his sore arms again, head resting comfortably on a thick thigh. Riku held the book,  _ Treasure Island,  _ open in one hand, then threaded his other hand through Sora's damp hair, petted there once, twice, three times before moving to an arm. Sora's eyes slid shut, heavy and content, but he felt the look Riku gave him through the link nonetheless.  _ I love you.  _

He silently whispered it back,  _ I love you, too.  _

"I opened my eyes at once. All around me were little ripples.. "

Sora  _ felt  _ like a ripple, constantly crashing into and then bouncing off of Riku, occasionally remaining joined long enough to make a wave. He felt as old and necessary as water sometimes, uncontrollable and unpredictable even to himself. Everyone trusted him until he made tsunamis of everything. But he didn't want any of this. Didn't ask for any of this. He just did it, because that's what water does. It exists so other things can. Sometimes, all he wants is to wade, calm and quiet, made still in the midday equilibrium of the tide. The tide, the  _ moon,  _ the ocean's only equal in age and duty. The glowing silver guide of seventy-five percent of their home world.

Riku continued to read long after Sora fell asleep, though his voice dropped to a whisper, and he continued to rub the tingles out of his arms. Meanwhile, Sora dreamt of flying ships and a planet made of silver coins and a beautiful, familiar man called Moon. 


End file.
